Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Marriage will not happen too soon; this is only tea,” Blanche jokes. “There will be time before your wedding night.” I pale and she apologizes, which forces a sense of guilt to come over me.
“Yes,” I agree, and fake a smile to cover the shame growing in my gut. “There will be time.” I allow a small huff of a laugh to leave me, and when she questions me about Isabel I ask her to send a letter of regret to her and request her forgiveness.
I need to make amends with her, just as I need to make amends with my life.
With a fitted gown and new leather shoes, I greet the prince with a polite smile. He’s charming and appears to notice me this morning more so than he did yesterday. When I blush, he smirks cockily, and that only makes the regret grow in the pit of my stomach.
“You look lovely, Princess,” he offers and pulls out my chair as I approach it, waving off a squire who typically is reserved for my father. The nobleman positions himself in the corner of the room, hands clasped in front of him. His dark trousers and cream linen blouse would seem far too simple for the keeper of the castle’s table service if it weren’t for his silk pocket square. In contrast to the prince, who wears finely tailored trousers of cream linen and a slightly lighter shirt lined with hand embroidery of his house, it’s quite obvious who is royalty in this room. Just as it’s obvious that my father sent his trusted squire to watch this encounter and likely report back to him.
With a concealed sigh, I take my seat and thank both gentlemen for their presence.
I do my best to make conversation with Prince Jasper over breakfast, though my sense of shame grows. I tell him about riding to the pavilion and about the stream. He tells me that he, too, enjoys the stables, and would rather ride than hunt.
When I drop the spoon a bit too hard against the shell of my egg, it does not seem to be going much better than the other meetings I’ve had. My nerves get the better of me throughout the meal and I hardly have an appetite. Judging by the prince’s glance to my plate throughout breakfast, he certainly notices.
“Would you care for a walk in the garden, Princess?” he asks, when it is clear that neither of us will be eating any more. Although I’ve hardly touched my plate.
I’m just as quick as I am polite with my answer. “Yes, of course.”
With our squire following a respectful distance behind, we go out to the garden. He’ll serve as our chaperone throughout the visit, it appears.
Although it is his job to watch us, it makes my shame even hotter. I’m ashamed to be seen with anyone else now that I have a secret lover, and I’m even more ashamed to find myself conflicted about it. I enjoy the sex. It leaves me satisfied, and I do not see why I should get married when I could simply continue to see the man when I’m in need.
However, I am sure my father, Isabel, Alice, and all others would disagree. As if I could ever confide in them the truth of what has happened.
Still I try to be polite. I attempt to be respectful, even if this courtship is not at all what I desire.
It’s no surprise that I cannot think of a single thing to say as we walk into the gardens and observe the flowers in bloom. Every option that comes to mind seems false. I do not want to talk about riding. I do not want to talk about the prince’s lands. I do not want to talk about the advantages of our alliance, whatever they may be.
I do not even think there is a pressing advantage. If there was, surely my father would have mentioned it before now.
Beside me, Prince Jasper lets out an irritated sigh. “What is it about me?”
“Hmm?” I say, shocked by the bold question. Pretending as if I do not know what he means is all I can think to do.
“What about me is not what you wish for in a partner?”
My stomach sinks. Is it so obvious? How horrid of me. When did I become so self-absorbed? I open my mouth to answer and can think of nothing to say. Nothing that would be appropriate for this chaperoned stroll, anyway. Nothing that would be appropriate for a prince who has come to negotiate a marriage proposal.
We stop on the cobblestone path and Prince Jasper takes my hand from his elbow and places it in his. It is a courteous hold, and no one could find fault with it. His flesh is hot on mine and his beautiful gaze captures me as he waits for an answer.